The lady Isoud was breathtaking, statuesque,
carrying a torch for her man of loss, for all
the lost who had nowhere else to go.
When he was dying, he sailed to her and lived.
Their tragedy was her contract with King Mark,
her husband by arrangement, all politics and power,
nothing more. No beating heart.
King Mark was the falsest king of all,
a murderer full of treason, vacant of courage,
once running from a fool hoisting the shield of a champion.
The king would never allow a loveday to reconcile
these passions, to breathe life into liberty again.
The lady would be free only when
his false house broke down.
Copyright © 2026 by Sam S. Dodd